The Mirror
by Odna Zvezda
Summary: Twelve year old Calogero hero worships Sonny. He wants to be just like him. To dress like him, talk like him, and act like him. One day he starts to get little hints of what his father means when he refers to the 'difference between love and fear'. But Calogero is still too young to understand it..
1. Sunday Morning

I don't know why exactly, but for some reason that day in particular always remained in my memory. Maybe it was because for one fleeting moment, I think I actually felt the 'fear' my father had often spoke of. Or maybe it was because for the first time, with just 3 words that Sonny had let loose under his breath, I really felt as if I was one of the guys. That I actually was part of their group, not just some kid they let hang around. But overall it was just a typical day, one of many that summer. Maybe that's why I held onto it, to remind myself how things were back then. Before I knew better..

It was Sunday morning and I can recall dragging myself from bed with all the enthusiasm of any twelve year old facing an impending and seemingly unavoidable sentence of Sunday Mass. My crime? Having a devoutly religious mother. Don't get me wrong, my father was religious as well, but I got the impression that he, like myself, wouldn't have minded missing a Sunday here and there. I did manage it by playing sick a few times, he never got out of it at all. He could have given it a shot anyway, but for some reason he never tried.

But that day as I dragged myself into the kitchen, plopping myself into my chair at the table, I noted a different situation had arose. This time it was my mother who was sick. She bickered with him, "I'll be fine, well just sit in the back. Calogero! Go get yourself ready."  
I rose back up and started to head back to my room.

"No, no.. I'm not even considering it, you need rest. I'll go out and get you some medicine" my father had a way of making his voice to be both gentle and firm at the same time. Without even looking at me he added, "Calogero! Get back here," pointing at my chair. I silently obeyed.

"I'll rest as soon as we get back, we're late already it starts in 15 minutes. Calogero! I said go get dressed."

Once again I lifted myself off the chair and pushed it back.

"No, you're going to rest right now" My father's tone became a little less gentle and a little more firm, "There will be another Mass next week, just like this one, I promise you. Calogero! Sit back down."

I dropped back into the chair with a sigh, wondering how many times I might have to get in and out of this chair before a winner was declared. Fortunately, as it turned out, that was the last round.

After a bit of verbal tussling, he managed to lead her back into the bedroom and into the bed. Shutting off the bedroom light, he returned to the kitchen where I sat waiting. "What's wrong with Mom is she okay?" my mother rarely got sick at all.

"Don't worry Calogero, she's fine, it's just a summer cold" he responded. I never did figure out what the difference was between a summer cold and a winter one, other than what season it was when you caught it. I guess many others didn't either, because at some point people just started dropping the first part and referring to it as just 'a cold'. I mean when you're sick like that, do you really care what the weather was when you became infected?

I was pretty sure that Mass was off the schedule for today. If it had been the other way around and if my father had been sick, I'm sure my mother would have left him home while the two of us went. But he was not her. He finally saw his shot, took it, and scored. 'Good going, Dad', I thought to myself.  
Still I needed to hear it from him. The official decision on the matter. I looked up at him, waiting for the answer to the question that I didn't need to ask. He always had a way of knowing when something was on my mind, and most of the time he knew what it was. I didn't wait long before he spoke again, "I think we'll skip Mass today," then with a sly smile and wink, "God will understand."

"Okay Dad." I tried to hold back from showing the instant mix of happiness and relief that had come over me. It's not that I wasn't religious, or hated our church or anything like that. It's just that like many kids my age, I found little enjoyment spending a Sunday morning sitting on a tight crowded pew, in an overheated church, listening to a priest speak endlessly on subjects that I couldn't follow and held little interest in trying, all while wearing a very uncomfortable suit. And I'm not just saying that, it really was rather uncomfortable. My mother had bought it for me the year before, and at the time it was fine. But since then, I had grown quite a bit but unfortunately, it hadn't.

I only mentioned it to my parents just once. It was couple weeks before, while we were walking home from church. My mother had been getting on me about being slow to respond to the church 'exercises' as I liked to think of them. If you were raised Catholic, you know what I mean. Sit, stand, kneel, sit. Kneel, stand, kneel, sit.. and so on.. Truth was, I really just wasn't into it that day. I had spent most of it daydreaming about anything else other than where I was and what the priest was saying. But it seemed like a good opportunity to blame my clothing, and make a play for something new.

"It's not my fault mom, it's this suit.. it's too tight.."

She stopped and turned to face me, her hand thoughtfully cupping her chin while her eyes narrowed as she looked me over. Reaching out and grabbing my jacket with both hands, she gave a few sharp tugs downwards to be sure before turning to my father. "He's right Lorenzo, it really is kinda small for him."

My father let loose a loud sigh, "Well maybe you should buy them a little larger in size, so he has time to grow into it?" he suggested.

"I did" she sounded a little defensive, "But it was last year, what do you expect? We can't stop him from growing."

He looked me over with a small smile, "No, I guess not." He sounded almost regretful. He turned back to my mother. I had been following this exchange as one might follow a tennis match, eyes shifting back and forth between them. I was used to them sometimes speaking about me as if I couldn't understand them or wasn't even there. I was just waiting for the end of the game, the final answer. It came within a moment. "Okay" his voice implied that he knew we were right, and wasn't going to dispute the subject "I'll pick up an extra shift somewhere, it will be fine."

We continued walking, and I remember being rather happy about how easy that had gone. Maybe too happy, because with my next words I unthinkingly overplayed my hand. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Since I'm getting a new suit, I was just thinking, can I get one like Sonny wears?"

I wanted to take the words back as soon as I saw the look on her face. Her lips pursed tight together as she narrowed her eyes at me. I wasn't really sure what she was thinking, but it was clear she wasn't too pleased. She didn't reply to me at all, but instead turned to my father silently. His expression as he gave a loud sigh and rolled his eyes was clearly one of disgust and exasperation. I should have known better, those seemed to be his two favorite emotions whenever I mentioned Sonny's name. But still, I tried to fix it, "I just mean, he has some nice suits that's all." I shrugged to show him it really wasn't _that_ important and continued, "I just like the way they look."

"Yeah, they're real nice," his voice was dripping with sarcasm. I guessed my father and I didn't share the same taste in clothing. "I'll tell you what son," he continued, "You will get and wear whatever we buy for you, okay?"

My mother put an arm around my shoulders, "Don't worry Calogero." After a quick sideways glance at my father, she smiled down at me, "We'll get you something nice."

"Okay mom." I answered, knowing even then that whatever she got me may be nice, but still wouldn't be anywhere near as nice as the ones Sonny wore.  
We walked a few more doors down silently but my father was still not over this. He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at my mother, directly asking her, again as if I hadn't been walking alongside them, "He wants a suit like Sonny's.. What does this kid think I really do for a living anyway?"

I answered for her, "I know what you do Dad, you drive a bus."

"That's right son, I drive a bus." He wagged his index finger at me, "And don't you forget it."

"I won't Dad" I replied, though at the time I didn't understand what one thing had to do with the other. It wouldn't be until years later that I figured out that the cost of just one of Sonny's custom tailored suits was equal to three whole months of my father's salary.

This had taken place two Sundays ago, and I still didn't have my new suit, but it didn't matter to me. I didn't have to go today. Already, many possible plans were running through my head. My father's voice broke through them. "Calogero, why don't you get dressed and sit outside, so you don't disturb your mother. In a while I'm going to go to the stores and pick up some medicine. You want to come with me?"

I shrugged, "Okay Dad." There would be nothing else for me to do until I caught up with Slick and Mario and the rest of the guys later anyway. Or so I had thought at the time..

He was heading back towards their bedroom, when he turned as if he had almost forgotten to repeat the words I heard almost every time I left to go out, "And I don't want you going anywhere near that bar."

An exasperated sigh escaped my lips, it really was unintentional, but I was just so tired of hearing it, "Bars not even open yet Dad." I informed him.

"Nevertheless, you just stay away" and he disappeared into the bedroom. I got dressed and bounded down the stairs two at a time. I tried for three but almost tumbled forward, managing to grab the handrail at the last moment to save myself from a nasty fall. I shook it off, and a moment later continued leaping down the steps.

Once outside, I stopped on the stoop and glanced at, of course, the bar. But as I had already known it would be, it remained closed up and silent. The sidewalk in front where they guys usually hung out was deserted, the chairs they lounged on as they told their stories, jokes and busted on each other sat there empty. The street in front and around the side looked desolate, without all the over sized cars that were usually parked there. Sitting in my usual position on the stoop, I shifted my glance up and down the block. It was so eerily quiet, stores closed, no one around. Nothing happened in this neighborhood until Sunday Mass was over. I just sat there enjoying the unusual peace.

It wasn't too long after when I saw Eddie Mush come walking up, newspaper under one arm as usual. As if oblivious to the lack of people around, he tried the front door of the bar, only to look momentarily surprised to find it locked. He glanced up and down the street before settling into a chair, giving his newspaper a couple of jerky shakes open and started to read. A short time after arrived Frankie Coffeecake. He exchanged greetings with Eddie, and sat in the chair beside him. They spoke in low voices, but without the usual street traffic, I could hear most of what they were saying, something about yesterday's number, then discussing various horses that were running, boxing, and baseball. I was quickly losing interest. A few years back I would have probably would have felt differently, but by then I had pretty much stopped following baseball after Sonny explained to me on the very first day we had met face to face why I shouldn't care about it.

I wondered if Sonny would show up this morning. At least watching him would be much more interesting than these two. But it was Bobby Bars who came walking up next. He pulled up a chair to the other two, and flipped it around, reversing it so he mounted with his legs spread on either side, his chest leaning against its back. After lighting up a cigarette, he joined the conversation. "Where the hell is Tony anyway?" I heard him ask Coffeecake. Even I knew the answer to that. Tony Toupee always attended Sunday Mass. He would sit back in the very last row, as if he didn't want to be noticed, but he was always there.

Coffeecake jerked a thumb in the direction of the church and replied, "If you ever dragged your ass out of bed before noon, you would know that, you lazy bum." Eddie laughed and picked up his paper again, rapidly flipping the pages to the back.

"That's fine," Bobby dismissed Coffeecake with a wave of his hand, "You can call me a lazy bum, but a little beauty sleep wouldn't hurt your ugly mug, that's for sure.."

I couldn't see Eddie's face, but I could hear and see the newspaper shake with his laughter. Bobby began to chuckle, while Coffeecake just looked bored before him giving the standard and ever popular comeback they used over there, "Go fuck yourself." Then as if on cue or something, the three suddenly stopped and turned to look down the street.

I saw it too. A shiny new black Cadillac slowly approaching to park in front of the bar. For a second my hopes rose, thinking it could be Sonny, but then I noted it was a four door model, as well as realizing the car was coming in facing forward. Sonny's car was a two door Coupe de Ville, and he always drove from his house to the bar backwards in reverse, so he'd be pointing in the right direction on the one way streets he used to get there.

The driver's door opened and Jimmy Whispers stepped out, glancing up and down the road before approaching the men. He stood out in contrast from the others by the way he was dressed. Like Sonny, Jimmy seemed to care about his appearance. The other guys were as usual, wearing very casual clothing, no different from the many other men in the neighborhood. Jimmy on the other hand, not only drove a similar car to Sonny's, but dressed similarly to him as well. Nice suit, shined shoes, hair meticulously combed back, a flashy watch on his left wrist, a diamond pinky ring on his left hand. The only difference was he also wore a small gold crucifix around his neck. I had never seen Sonny with one, or any type of necklace for that matter.

Eyes narrowed and lips drawn tight together, Bobby got up and lightly grabbed Jimmy's arm, leading him away from the others to the lamppost on the corner. He was saying something to Jimmy, but too low for me to make out the words, especially as the other two continued their louder conversation. Jimmy then put his right arm around Bobby's neck, dragging Bobby's ear to his mouth and began whispering something quickly, as his left finger kept pointing straight down to the ground, as if for emphasis. I watched only mildly interested as his ring kept flashing, reflecting the sun. Bobby broke away, and backed off a step. His hands were raised at chest level, palms out, "Hey, I'm only tellin' ya so ya know, there most likely will be a problem here."

Jimmy paused, studying him for a few seconds, before dismissing him with a backward wave of his hand, "Okay, I'll talk to Sonny, see what he thinks."

Seemingly satisfied, Bobby returned to his chair, and I glanced back at Jimmy, still standing under the corner lamppost, reading something from the small notepad I knew he always carried in his jacket pocket. That's when I spotted it. A set of brand new Cadillac taillights coming down the road. I smiled inwardly as well as outwardly.

The car glided smoothly around the corner, slow rolling to a stop, perpendicular to Jimmy's. Sonny emerged from his car to calls of "Morning Sonny" "Hey Sonny" "How you doing?". He acknowledged them with a quick wave of his hand, but his attention was on the only one who remained silent. He approached Jimmy first. They quickly embraced, and then Jimmy began whispering something to him. I noted though he moved closer to Sonny to do so, he did not grab Sonny's neck in order to pull his ear down to him, as he did with almost everyone else. He made no physical contact with Sonny at all as he continued on, while jerking a thumb in Bobby's direction. This gesture was not lost on Bobby, who sat there, intently watching every move they made. Even when Coffeecake jabbed him a couple of times, trying to point out something Eddie was saying, Bobby just nodded slowly, never removing his eyes from the two men under the lamppost.

After Jimmy had finished, I could hear Sonny's response, brief and blunt. "Yeah, so?"

This sent Jimmy off in another hail of hushed words, and his hands rapidly moved through various gestures, in a possible attempt to make Sonny understand the importance of whatever he was saying. Since I couldn't hear him, I remember amusing myself by trying to guess what he was saying by following his hand movements. 'I was stirring the sauce on the stove. I spun around three times. I backhanded the pot right off the stove. Some of it landed behind me. The rest landed right there on my shoe..'

I had to put my hand to my mouth to stifle the giggles. It might not have been so funny, if it weren't for the expression on Sonny's face. It appeared to be one of disbelief, a sort of a mix somewhere between 'Are you kidding me?' and 'Why am I even wasting time listening to this nonsense?' It seemed to fit so well with my own narrative.

Sonny raised his had to cut Jimmy off, "Yeah, I get it, I get it.." there was a degree of impatience in his tone, "But what I don't get is this is something you can handle yourself, why are you bothering me with this bullshit?" I could see Jimmy heave a sigh before continuing inaudibly, looking like someone on tv with the volume shut off. I continued to watch in amusement.

Once again Sonny raised his hand, causing Jimmy's mouth to immediately stop and his hands drop to his sides. Sonny's attention was now over Jimmy's shoulder, directed at the men on the chairs. "Hey Coffeecake!"

Coffeecake jumped so quickly out of his chair, it almost fell over. He gave a sheepish smile as he righted it, "Yeah Sonny?"

Sonny reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out something too small for me to make out what it was, and tossed it over to him. It glinted in the sun as Coffeecake caught it, and then I saw it was a key. "Open the bar and let the guys in" Sonny instructed. Coffeecake dutifully headed to the front door to unlock it.

Sonny turned back to Jimmy, "Okay, so you just thought," he was pointing at Jimmy with a three finger gesture that was exclusively his own. I found my own right hand forming a perfect imitation of it, as I pointed out towards the street, trying to match his movements simultaneously and exactly. He continued, "Now thinking is over, it's time to just do it."

Jimmy nodded his agreement, and reached up to pat Sonny's shoulder twice in appreciation before beckoning Bobby over to himself. Though while approaching Jimmy, Bobby never looked up, his head turned a quick sideways glance at Sonny as he passed him, and as he reached Jimmy he automatically lowered it further so Jimmy could hook his neck and start instructing him. Sonny glanced at the bar door and took a step towards it, when suddenly his head turned to the left and our eyes locked upon each other.

"Hey C," he called out, waving me over to him, "Come here, I want to talk to you a minute."

I tried to keep my gait even and nonchalant as I approached him, barely aware that I was on my feet and heading towards him as soon as he said 'Come here'. He could have said angrily, 'Come here, I want to slap the shit out of you' and my legs without hesitation would have obediently taking me to a beating. Sonny just had that effect on people. Like the way Coffeecake had jumped from his chair as soon as Sonny addressed him. But that wasn't what he said. He said he wanted to talk to me. My heart skipped a beat. Me specifically. He had not bothered to say a single word to the other guys, except to order Coffeecake to open the bar and that conversation with Jimmy that didn't seem to interest him at all. But he wanted to speak with me. I tried not to show it, but I was happy and excited at the same time.

I stopped in front of him, gazing up with a smile. I remember how tall he seemed, and how I had hoped to reach that height one day myself. But considering my parents, probably not. My parents were of average size, if I were to use the other adults in the neighborhood as a rule, but Sonny was still over six inches taller than my father. "Hi Sonny."

He returned a smile of his own, "How you doing kid?" I remember these were the very first words Sonny had ever said to me, years ago when we finally met face to face in the back of the bar, and had been his standard greeting to me since. I shrugged, "Okay."

From somewhere in the distance, I heard a man yelling 'Frankie! Hey Frankie! Get the fuck over here now!' It sounded like 'Frankie' was in trouble.

Sonny glanced quickly in the direction it had come from, and just as quickly dismissed it, turning back to me, "Good, glad to hear it. I hadn't seen you around these last few days, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay?"

The last sentence came out as more of a question that a statement, so an answer seemed in order, "Everything's fine, I just had some stuff to do." He didn't respond, he just waited as if he expected me to continue.

One block over, another man, most likely 'Frankie', returned the shout, 'Whadda fuck you want?! I got nuthin' to say to you!'

I shrugged again, "Mainly chores.." and I looked down to the ground, hoping he would not notice the tinge of shame and guilt I felt on my cheeks. I didn't like to lie in general, but for some reason I especially didn't like to lie to Sonny. I knew there were no chores, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth. What was I supposed to say to him? That the real reason I hadn't been around the last few days was because my parents had started to become suspicious of my made up excuses for going out for hours each day? That I couldn't tell them that I had been working in the bar for tips, because I wasn't allowed to come here at all? And the main reason I wasn't allowed to come here was because unlike everyone else in the neighborhood, my father did not love him, he wasn't even indifferent towards him, he actually outright hated him. Hated him for no apparent reason at all? No, I just couldn't tell him that, it was easier to lie, and despite the flash of guilt, still less painful.

In the background, 'Frankie' and his partner were now in a full blown screaming match, consisting of a fairly even mix of name calling, obscenities and a variety of threats.

I threw a glance over in their direction, noticing Sonny did also, an expression of clear annoyance on his face, before it softened as it returned focus back to me, "Okay." I couldn't tell by his voice whether he believed me or not, but he hesitated a moment before switching subjects, "How come you're not at Sunday Mass?"

This I could answer honestly, and looked up to face him once again, "My mom wasn't feeling well, so Dad said we didn't have to go."

"Nice break" Bobby injected with a smile. I hadn't noticed that he and Jimmy had finished their conversation and were now just listening to us. But this was normal, very often when Sonny was speaking to me, I'd be concentrating so much on him that I would forget there was anyone else around.

"I'm sorry to hear that, is she alright?" Sonny looked genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, she's okay," I assured him, "It's just a cold. Dad made her go back to bed and he's going to get some medicine for her when the store opens."

He nodded, "Good, that's probably the best thing to do."

The commotion in the distance seemed to increase in volume and intensity.

A thought had occurred to me and in a split second, I decided to ask, "How come you don't go to Mass Sonny?" I was genuinely curious about that, but I had another motive behind the question as well. I figured maybe if he did show up in church once in a while, perhaps my father would see he wasn't such a bad man after all. Jimmy and Bobby exchanged glances before they simultaneously turned to Sonny. They appeared to be interested to hear this answer as well.

"Me?" He let out a small chuckle, as if he had found the question to be outside of the realm of possibility, yet still amusing. It was as if I had asked him how come he never became a horse jockey or something like that. "Well, the thing is, I was planning on doing my prayers later on today." He looked over at Jimmy and Bobby who were trying to stifle their snickers, shooting a sly smile in their direction.

"Yeah, and I'll be joining you," Jimmy added, causing the three of them to laugh softly.

As usual, I didn't understand what they were laughing about. Their jokes were often rather cryptic and confusing to me, so I just did as I normally done. Smiled and played along like I knew what they meant.

The volume of the anger in the background was reaching a crescendo. As he cast a sharp gaze in the direction it came from, the annoyance and tension in Sonny's body language and facial expression was stronger than ever. He gave a quick, dismissive wave at it and turned to Jimmy, "See what I mean? No respect for anything or anybody. Fucking selfish assholes."

The laughter had stopped. Jimmy shrugged in a way that clearly said what he was thinking, but he verbalized it anyway, "Assholes are assholes. What can you do?"

Sonny just slowly shook his head in response. I couldn't tell whether he was agreeing or disagreeing, but then he turned back to me, "So C, you want to work tonight? We're having card games in the back, you'd be helping us out, and probably make some good money."

I thought about it, could I get away with slipping away to the bar again so soon? Maybe just to be safe I should wait another day or two. I knew I had a good thing going at that bar, but I'd hate to blow it completely because I got greedy.. "I don't know Sonny," I hesitated, "I still have some chores left to do.."

He put his hands behind him, palms outward and leaned his body back catching the rear quarter of Jimmy's car. This time when he smiled, only one side of his lips went up. For some this would be a sneer, but in Sonny's case, it was just a sarcastic smile. "More chores, huh?" He paused as if considering this, then "Tell me, did your parents actually birth you, or buy you?" Jimmy and Bobby tittered. And once again I was left puzzled, what did he mean?

"It's okay, you don't have to give me an answer about tonight right now," his voice became softer, gentler, "I just thought I'd offer.." his head cocked slightly to the left as his left shoulder shrugged slightly upwards for a second then they returned to position. It was a fast, subtle move and one I had seldom seen before. He used it to express mild disappointment. But since no one ever wanted to disappoint Sonny, it was a rare occurrence. I remember feeling bad about causing this reaction. I opened my mouth to say something, I'm not really sure what though, but just as quickly closed it as he continued, "Tell you what C, you come tonight, help us out and I'll teach you some poker. It's a good skill to have, and if you learn it right it can serve you well. C'mon, it'll be fun. The offer is there, just think about it, okay?"

I knew I would think about it, in fact, I would probably be thinking about it all day. "Okay Sonny, I'll think-" I was immediately cut off. What happened next came about so quickly I had no time to even register it. I was caught completely off guard.

I'm sure I did hear the 2 loud pops that sounded like fireworks, but I didn't even give them a thought because at that same moment Sonny suddenly bolted upright from leaning on Jimmy's car, his facial muscles tensed, and his eyes wide open. Simultaneously, I saw his left hand quickly coming at my face straight on, more like a punch than a slap. I automatically closed my eyes and winced, bracing for impact.

His hand narrowly missed, going over my shoulder. I knew that because I felt it shoot past my ear and the sleeve of his suit jacket rubbed along my right cheek. My eyes opened again as I felt an inescapable pressure on the back of my neck, where he had clamped his large hand, his thumb digging into my right collarbone. 'Sonny! What?!..' I didn't actually say this, but that's as far as my thoughts had gone before I found myself being yanked almost off the ground first towards him, then suddenly spun around behind him with such force I probably would have landed somewhere across the street if it weren't for Jimmy's car. My back slammed into the rear quarter panel, and continued to slide down it as Sonny's hand pushed me to the pavement. I remember the thud that I felt more than heard as the back of my head made contact with the over sized fin of the Cadillac. There was suddenly a loud ringing in my ears and from what seemed like a great distance, I could hear both Sonny and Jimmy yelling something that I couldn't make out, and even didn't care about at the time. All I knew was that my heart felt like it had moved up into my throat as was beating so fast, no not beating, it was racing, like the engine of a Cadillac when the gas pedal was floored. My mind was racing as well, uncomprehending, fragmented thoughts flew through so fast and instantly disappeared. 'Sonny! Why?!' "Oh God help me, has he lost his mind?!" My father's angry voice interjecting, 'How many times have I told you this, Calogero? People don't love him, they _FEAR_ him'. At that moment, I was beyond fear. I was absolutely terrified.

This had probably all happened in a matter of seconds, then as the ringing started to fade and my head started to clear I began to take in the scene before me. I was still on my feet, but my knees were bent sharply to the point I was almost squatting, my back pressed up against Jimmy's car, and Sonny's hand still holding me down in position. But Sonny himself was completely turned away from me, I was looking directly at the back of his long legs less than a foot away from my face. I looked up to see him glancing quickly up and down the street, his right hand gripping something in his jacket pocket. My mind instantaneously drifted back to a few years ago. I didn't have to see the object in his hand to know what it was that he was holding.

I felt a flood of relief come over me, when as suddenly as a click everything made sense again. Those two loud pops I heard were gunfire. More importantly, Sonny hadn't attacked me, he was protecting me. And Jimmy and Bobby were in position facing angled out in opposite directions directly in front of him, almost up against him as I was with the car. Jimmy's hand was thrust into his right jacket pocket as well, Bobby's hand around his back, his shirt was lifted up to expose a holster and pistol strapped to his lower spine that I had never even known was there. They were protecting Sonny. And by extension, protecting me as well.

Coffeecake was now outside the bar, shooting looks up and down the street as well. Eddie was nowhere to be seen. He probably figured it to be safer to stay inside.

As if they had been given a signal, they all seemed to relax in unison. Jimmy turned to back off a step or two and face Sonny, "Next block" he said in a low voice as if he thought the shooter might hear him, and nodded his head in a direction up Belmont avenue.

"Well that should put an end to all that racket anyway" Bobby appeared to be more relieved than anything.

Sonny released his grip from my neck, turning around to face me he put his right hand gently on my left shoulder and crouched all the way down as far as his height would let him, looking me straight in the eyes. I was just glad I was now calmer and he didn't see me freaking out a few moments ago. His tone was softer, gentler than I have ever heard from him, than I would ever have thought he was capable of, "Hey C, you okay?" I watched his eyes glance me over quickly, as if looking for a visible injury, then locking back on my own he continued, "I'm really sorry C, I didn't mean to grab you so hard like that, it's just that..." He shook his head as his voice trailed off, then "Well you're okay, right?"

Jimmy and Bobby were both standing behind him looking me over solemnly. There was no way I was going to let any of them see that this had affected me at all. I was no punk and no sissy. I reached out with my left hand, and grabbing Sonny's right arm started to pull myself up. "Yeah Sonny, I'm fine." I was glad to hear my voice sounded okay.

Sonny rose, helping me to do so as well. I felt a twinge of pain in my back as I straightened up, but kept a straight face. I wanted them to think I could handle a little roughing up as much as any of them. Besides, I told myself, Sonny would never show it if he was in pain. He was too cool for that. No reason I couldn't be as well.

Sonny smiled and let out a soft chuckle, throwing a glance over to Jimmy and Bobby, "He's a tough kid, this one." I was pretty sure that I detected a note of pride in his voice. A feeling of warmth came over me at the thought of it.  
"Sure is," Jimmy affirmed and threw me a smile as well.  
I was feeling a little pride myself, having forgotten those racing thoughts I had just minutes ago. A tough kid, that's me. Sonny said I was a tough kid. I made him proud. I was more elated than I had ever been in my life. But I didn't get to bask in it though, because immediately after, the sound of 'Frankie' and his screaming partner filled the air again.

I saw everything about Sonny immediately change. His body tensed, his right hand clenched into a tight fist he gave a quick jerk up then back down again, his face was contorted in pure anger, "Son of a bitch, you have _GOT_ to be fucking kidding me.." he growled, and with that he quickly turned the corner and headed up Belmont avenue.

Me, Jimmy and Bobby exchanged the quickest of glances at each other, we were all thinking the same thing. A serious ass kicking was about to take place. We scrambled to catch up with him.

We went along in complete silence. We didn't need to know exactly where they were, it was easy enough to follow the racket they made. Turning onto their block we spotted them immediately about half way down. Its wasn't too difficult, they were the only ones outside. This struck me as odd, I mean I know most people were at Mass, but surely not all of them? There was not one single curious onlooker to be spotted. But then again, maybe anyone who had come out to watch the show decided to move themselves indoors after the gunfire. This was most likely.

Sonny suddenly stopped about twenty feet from the men, and we abruptly stopped with him. I saw his right hand slide slowly into his jacket pocket as he stared at them intently. My heart actually jumped. I had suddenly made a connection between this scene and the one that had happened three years ago, when I was nine years old, right in front of me. Two men fighting in the street. Same as here, but then it was over a parking space. Things got very heated, one had a bat. He was smashing out the windshield and drivers glass of the other guy's car trying to get to him inside.

I had sat on my stoop, completely transfixed on the scene, when I had caught sight of Sonny moving at a rapid pace towards us from the corner in front of the bar. His right arm was completely extended straight in front of him, holding an object in his hand. The gun went off once, then twice. He shot the man with the bat first in the arm, then in the head, sending him straight to the ground sprawling on his back. But the part that stood out in my mind was when he moved in quickly, stood over the man's body and fired two more bullets into him as he lay there on the road. I guessed that was to make sure they guy would never get up again. Now here I was in a situation that was looking too familiar to be comfortable.

I felt a chill and my throat went dry. My eyes darted back and forth between him and them, as I waited to see what would happen..


	2. Mirror

I stood at Sonny's side, trying my best to imitate his body language and movements, as I had done for years..

When he was relaxed, that was easy enough to copy. But over time I had noticed there was a certain posture he would assume when facing either a potential or inevitable confrontation. It's like his entire body would stiffen and become erect, his arms would loosely hang at his sides, fingertips pointing straight down at the ground. This gave the impression of him being even taller than his already impressive height.

But the interesting and more difficult part for me to mimic was the way he held his head in these situations. It's like the base of his neck would angle forward from his spine which remained perfectly perpendicular to the ground, and his head just naturally followed his neck. At his size this was even more intimidating to his target, as he not only towered over the troublemaker, but also seemed to be looming down upon him as well.

I had gotten to the point where I could duplicate this stance almost exactly, as I was doing right there next to him, though at the time I didn't really have the height to make it effective. I couldn't even make use of it on my friends, as most of them were taller than me. So whenever alone with a mirror, I would practice this (along with other mannerisms that Sonny often displayed) sometimes for an hour or more. I would continuously check myself from every angle to see if I had it right, maybe make a minor correction or two, then check again. I wanted to make sure I had it down perfectly for later, when I finally grew enough to make it work.

But the one thing about Sonny that I never could imitate, no matter how hard I tried, was his stare. His eyes were a very dark brown, almost black in certain lighting, where you could barely distinguish his pupils from the rest. My own eye color was very close to his, I happily noted, but that's where the similarity ended. No matter what, I just could not achieve that same ever present hard, unyielding gaze that he had. Looking into Sonny's eyes, especially when they were locked upon your own was like…I don't know.. the best way I think of to describe it brings to mind a discussion I had with my father when I was about 8 years old.

I remember that evening when my father and I were sitting at the kitchen table waiting for my mother to serve dinner. We had somehow gotten into this conversation about names and even more so, surnames, which he explained that many had an actual meaning. Like our surname, Anello, means 'ring'. He gave me a few other examples, using a couple of my friends' family names as well. At that time that I had already started to take notice of Sonny and his crew, and had been observing them more closely. I asked my father the meaning of Sonny's name, LoSpecchio.

"It means 'the mirror'", he answered factually, and then he paused as if some thought had just occurred to him. I remained silent, thinking he was going to add something, but a moment later he just redirected his attention towards me and continued, "but the most interesting surname I've ever heard, was some neighbors we once had when I was about your age…"

The mirror.. It was not only Sonny's surname, but it was also the best way I can describe his stare. His eyes, like the mirror, seemed to just reflect everything back at you, while never showing you anything of what lay behind them on the other side. Well, with the exception of one thing anyway.. often there was a single, unfailing challenge in those eyes, one that actually seemed to issue a dare to whoever or whatever they were focused upon. The specifics of the dare itself was dependent on the situation.

They dared the target to speak, they dared it to remain silent.

They dared the target to smile, they dared it not to laugh.

They dared the target to move, they dared it to remain stationary.

They dared the target to not follow through on something when directed to, they dared it to continue once Sonny said 'Stop'.

It was that last dare I saw in his eyes now, as he gazed at the two men still loudly arguing on the sidewalk. Now I have to tell you, Sonny never actually said the word 'Stop' to them. At that point, he hadn't said a single word to them at all. He simply didn't have to, he was Sonny. When he looked at you like that, you didn't need words to realize the problem. The answer was in the mirror.

And it was almost comical the way some people reacted to it. The man who was facing us, screaming "You just try it! That was just a warning! The next time I'll put one through your thick fucking skull. You'll see, you son of a..." at the second man who stood toe to toe in front of him, took notice of us within seconds after halting our approach. Even from that distance I could see his eyes shift from his opponents face to the figure that stood beside me. At the same moment, he suddenly fell silent in midsentence, as if someone had just flipped a switch that cut power to his mouth and vocal chords. His right hand, which had been waggling a pistol at the second man like an angry mother shakes her finger at a disobedient child, quickly disappeared behind his back and just as quickly returned empty.

The second man, being at a disadvantage in having his back turned to us, continued his tirade for another ten seconds or so, before apparently coming to the realization that his voice was now the only one traveling through the neighborhood. His head turned to follow the first man's gaze over his shoulder, and stopped as soon as it seen us. The look of anger instantly melted off his face and was replaced just as quickly with a big, almost surreal smile. He turned the rest of his body towards us, and in a contrastingly calmer, almost singsong, tone called out "Hey Sonny, how ya doin?" the smile on his face becoming even larger and more surreal.

Sonny arched his eyebrows. "How am I doing?" I noticed his hand had left his pocket, empty, but there was still a very clear tone of annoyance in his voice as he simultaneously took a few quick steps forward, halving the distance between him and the men in a matter of a second or two. "I'll tell you how I'm doing" he continued without missing a beat, his tone switching rapidly to anger as he went on, "I, much like the rest of the neighborhood, (his right hand shot out sideways, his usual three finger gesture pointing somewhere to the right of him and just stayed there) was enjoying a peaceful Sunday morning, until a couple of jerkoffs from around the block started a bunch of _fucking bullshit_ (he emphasized the last 2 words with both increasing the volume of his voice, and swinging his right hand forward, 3 fingers now pointing directly at the two men before him, as if there were any question as to who the couple jerkoffs he spoke of may be) and then proceeded to continue their fucking bullshit non-stop, ruining my enjoyment. That's how I'm fucking doing!" With that, Sonny stopped speaking, his arm dropping back down to his side. He glared at them awaiting a response.

I remember shifting my attention back and forth between the two men, trying to duplicate Sonny's stare as a running dialogue went through my head. 'I think I'm doing it, go on, I dare you not to answer him, wait no, don't narrow your eyes like that, Sonny doesn't do that he just looks at you dead on, ok better, well go on you jerkoffs, say something or do we have to slap an answer out of your mouths? You think were just standing here waiting for a fucking bus or something? Your squinting again, stop it!'

While I tried to get it right, I noticed the two men exchange a quick sideways glance at each other. Now, there were a lot of things I just didn't understand back then. Such as why my father had such a strong dislike for Sonny and his crew. But especially Sonny. He would speak well of my Dad, and as far as I knew had never wronged him in any way. And while on the subject of strong dislike, why were we supposed to feel this way about the people who lived over on Webster avenue? Just because they were a different color than us? And what wrong had they ever done to us? Then there was so many things my father would say, Sonny would say, that just made no sense to me. 'You'll understand when you get older' they would both tell me. And they were right about that. But at that moment, when the eyes of those two men quickly found each other before shifting back to Sonny, well that was something I did understand. It was the same silent acknowledgement that a couple of kids may share after having been caught in the act of fighting on the playground by a teacher. The agreement being, 'Ok we work through this new threat together, and later we can finish hashing out our own problem'.

The first man spoke softly, "I'm sorry Sonny.. I guess we just let our tempers get the best of us, and things may have gotten a little out of hand and for that I apologize.." he hesitated a moment then quickly added "We certainly didn't mean to disturb you, and meant absolutely no disrespect."

The second man, who had been nodding his agreement as his partner spoke, affirmed "That's right, we meant no disrespect at all, and I would like to apologize as well".

They both mustered up the courage to look directly at him, obvious hope showing in their eyes, and their facial expressions as well. It was clear they just wanted this to be over, to be dismissed.

Sonny's posture did relax a bit, his facial muscles loosened, his hands went behind his back and one lightly clasped the other's wrist. I let loose of the rigid pose I had been holding up until that time. The truth was, that I had wanted this to be over with as well. I was quickly becoming bored with the situation that appeared to have now calmed down because of Sonny's presence. I didn't see the prospect of anything interesting happening here. It was just a stupid argument between two men, that had nothing to do with any of us. Who cares if these two wanted to kill each other in the street? Who really cares? Nobody, that's who. Nobody even cared enough to come outside and watch.

All I could think about then was how Mass would be over soon, and I wanted to catch Slick and Mario when they got out. I would first bust on them about me getting to stay home while they had to go, then tell them about how I withstood a roughing up from Sonny (even though not intentional) and how he was impressed with my toughness, and then how we shut up two jerkoffs who were disturbing the peace (probably stretching a few of the facts a little to make the story more interesting), then maybe we could get together with others for some stickball or something..

My thoughts were interrupted as Sonny moved forward again, now closing the final distance between himself and the men. I went alongside him, as Jimmy trailed right behind us. But Bobby B, he suddenly cut to the right and circled around, stopping directly behind the first man, who, with the sudden nervous expression on his face, along with a noticeable stiffening of his body, made it clear that he was very aware of this change of position. In contrast, the expression on Bobby's face appeared to be as disinterested as I felt.

Sonny stopped directly in front of the man, his head cocked slightly to the right. His body was still in a sort of military style 'at ease' position, though he reminded me more of a high rank inspecting the troops than some low-ranking soldier. I thought it looked pretty cool and I remember studying him carefully, so I could practice this later on.

Sonny's voice became softer, and at his normal speaking volume "Apologize to me?" He managed a small smile, and shook his head slowly before turning it to the right and staring at our reflection in the store window. He continued in the same tone, "You really should be apologizing to the whole fucking neighborhood." For a split second, the two men relaxed and flashed their own smiles, that seemed far more genuine than the ones they wore when they first spotted us. And I'm pretty sure I was smiling too, but not just because Sonny was, because I, like these 2 men, had a sense this was now over and we could all just continue about our business. Mine of course, being to catch Mario and Slick as they left the church, and it was looking like I just may make it back in time.

And in a flash, everything changed. Sonny's head snapped forward facing the men again, the tension in his face wiped away any trace of a smile that was there just a moment ago, his body language signaled that he expected a confrontation, but his glare dared it to happen. If I had practiced constantly for the next 10 years I still don't think I could ever make such a switch that quickly. The sudden transformation caught both men by surprise and I have to admit, me as well.

"Now.." the volume of Sonny's voice remained normal, but he spoke slowly and deliberately, there was no mistaking the anger or threat in his voice, "Yous tell me, which one of you fucking jerkoffs fired the gun?"

I sighed inwardly, realizing this was not over yet.

He had directed his question to both of them, but his eyes never left the first man's face. Though he hadn't been there when it happened, Sonny nevertheless knew who was responsible. He gave them a moment, his silence demanding an answer to his question.

I watched all color completely drain from the first man's face. I swear I thought the guy would probably piss himself at any moment. I guess I could have almost understood, if I was in his position. What with Bobby B doing who knows what behind him, an angry Sonny looking like he was two seconds away from slapping his head right off his shoulders standing directly in front of him, and Jimmy just standing there silent and completely expressionless, as if he didn't care either way and would be just as happy to go along whether Sonny told him to beat the crap out of the guy, or if he suggested they all have lunch together.

But when you're 12 years old, the part of your brain that controls empathy isn't as strong as the part that can find amusement in such situations, so I didn't dwell on it.

The first man slowly raised his hands, palms out, up to his chest, a sheepish grin on his face. "Whoaaa Sonny.." he spoke softly, slowly and calmly, as if he had been just confronted by a wild animal he was trying to convince he was absolutely no threat to, "that was just an accident.. the gun went off by mistake, but its ok.. no one got hurt, everything is fine, it was just an accident that's all.."

"Yeah Sonny" the second man chimed in, "it was just an accident, no harm done." But he may as well have remained silent, as Sonny didn't appear to hear or notice him. He was fixated on the first man, the one he held responsible.

It was probably a bad choice of tactic on the first man's part to speak in that tone, because it only seemed to enrage Sonny further. "An accident?" Sonny's right hand shot up, but instead of smacking him as I expected, his 3 finger gesture began jabbing at the man's chest, never actually making contact, but coming as close as possible. I stored that move in my memory, it looked intimidating, and I wanted to start practicing it later today. "Bull fucking shit," Sonny continued, still jabbing for emphasis, "An accident is what you have in your own fucking home when you wet your bed. You don't have an accident with a fucking gun on a public street where children play in MY fucking neighborhood. Capisci?"

"Yeah Sonny, I got it.." he replied softly as he reached in his front pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, he wiped the moisture from his brow and dabbed the sweat from his face. I truly believed that if Sonny had continued for another minute or so, he really would have pissed himself.

He quickly tucked the cloth back into his pocket and continued, "You're absolutely right Sonny, I don't know what I was thinking.. I'm sorry and I give you my word it will never happen again" "You have my word," he repeated, emphasizing each syllable.

Sonny's gaze shifted to over the man's shoulder. Several groups of people were coming down the block. The Mass must have ended, and we would not have the streets to ourselves much longer. And now I would have to try to find out where Slick and Mario went. What a waste of a what should have been a great Sunday morning.

Sonny returned his focus back to the target. He once again relaxed his posture, his hand dropping back down to his side, and he gave a slow single nod "Okay, I know it won't". He then extended his left arm towards the man, this time all 5 fingers pointing at him, appearing to offer a handshake. The man must have taken it this way as well, because he looked relieved as he started to raise his own hand to meet it, when Sonny suddenly twisted his own wrist, turning his palm up. The volume of his voice dropped, but the tone relayed he was dead serious, "Now give me the fucking gun."

"B..but Sonny" he began to protest, the tone and his facial expression indicating the unfairness he seemed to feel had just been served upon him.

Left arm still extended, his right hand formed the usual 3 finger position. Suddenly coming up to his left shoulder, it then quickly slashed down diagonally, returning to his side. I knew that gesture very well by now, so well I could have mouthed the next 6 words along with Sonny "I don't want to hear it. You're a fucking jerkoff. And fucking jerkoffs are not allowed to play with guns in _my_ neighborhood."

He contracted all his fingers on his outstretched hand, twice, to let the man know he was quickly growing impatient. But it wasn't just out of anger. He could see, as I could as well, that we had about 30 seconds left before we would be surrounded by church goers on their way home for Sunday lunch.

And I guess we weren't the only ones. I was momentarily startled when Jimmy, who had not uttered a single word since we got here, suddenly spoke up, "Just do as he says and give him the fucking gun."  
Jimmy's tone, in contrast to Sonny's, did not seem to relay any anger or even a threat. I remember it seeming something like 'you can't win here, so why make things more difficult?'

But however the man may have interpreted it, it worked. With a barely audible sigh of surrender, he reached behind and came back around with the pistol, dropping it into Sonny's waiting hand. The moment it touched his skin, Sonny quickly brought his hand down and extended his arm backward behind himself, never turning from the man before him. Jimmy snatched and pocketed it in a blink of an eye.

A few seconds later, the church goers were upon us. A few looked at curiously, then averted their eyes and quickened their steps. But most just smiled, waved and/or called out friendly greetings as they passed by, "Hey Sonny, how ya doin?" "Hiya Sonny, how you been?" "You're looking good Sonny, games tonight, right?" "Hey Sonny, stop by the store later, I got something for ya I think you're really going to like!" and this continued on for a few minutes as everyone passed. Some greeted Jimmy as well, and a few even nodded and smiled at Bobby and me. But it really was Sonny who had all their attention, by doing nothing but standing on a sidewalk. I remember thinking how he was like a celebrity in our neighborhood, and the people here obviously did love him, contrary to what my father often told me. The way I saw it was, they didn't have to greet him at all, just like he didn't have to smile and acknowledge each and every one of them in return. But they did, and he did. As far as my 12 year old mind could process this, it was because there was a mutual love and respect he shared with the whole neighborhood.

Well, except maybe for these two guys who, even after everyone had passed, were still standing here. Sonny hadn't dismissed them yet. Fully relaxed, he now turned to them, and his tone was that of his normal speaking voice, "Ok, I'm going to go now." He said it in such an offhand way, as if we had been doing nothing all this while but chatting about sports and the weather, and he had just realized the time. He then added, "I trust I won't have to return, just keep it down and have some respect for your neighbors. They're good people". Without waiting for a response, he then turned around and started heading back towards the bar.

Jimmy, Bobby, and I followed behind him when we heard the first man call out in an overfriendly voice, "No problem Sonny, take care!"

The second man, probably to show there were no hard feelings on his part either did the same, "Yeah, see ya around Sonny!" Without looking back, or even the slightest hesitation in his footsteps, Sonny quickly raised a hand and brought it back down again in acknowledgement.

We walked in complete silence until we turned the corner, then it was Jimmy who spoke first to the man in front of him, "So what you want me to do with this?"

Sonny shrugged without missing a step, "I really don't care what the fuck you do with it. I just wasn't going to let that jackoff keep it."

"Okay," Jimmy replied with a shrug of his own.

But Sonny wasn't finished, "I mean, what the fuck is wrong with these guys?" I couldn't tell if the question was directed at Jimmy, or all of us, or if he really expected any answer at all.

We continued in silence a few more doors down, and Sonny started up again, "No fucking brains, no fucking consideration, shooting a gun off on a public street like they're living some wild west bullshit. I just don't believe these people, it's like they ain't going to be happy until they bring enough heat here so we have a fucking cop standing on every fucking corner. I mean, can you figure out these people?"

"Nah, and the truth is I gave up even trying." Jimmy replied with a barely audible shortness of breath. He was over half a foot shorter than Sonny and seemed to be having difficulty keeping up with Sonny's longer and quicker than usual strides. Of course, I was the shortest of all, but I kept pace. Maybe it was easier for me because I wasn't a good forty pounds overweight like Jimmy was. I mean, he was no Jojo, but still it wouldn't have hurt him to lose a few..

Sonny most likely did hear it though, because he noticeably slowed down a bit. We were almost back anyway. He took a quick glance at his watch and asked, "What time was that meeting, Jimmy?"

"Two o'clock." was the response, Jimmy was sounding a little better now.

Sonny shook his head in disgust, "What a fucking way to waste a perfectly good Sunday morning."

We passed the side entrance to the bar, all of us glancing over at it and figuring the same thing, that it was probably still locked. We continued around to the front.

"Hey Sonny, I got an idea.." Jimmy suddenly blurted, and he didn't wait for Sonny's response before continuing, "Instead of a fucking cop on every corner, how bout we just make you sheriff of the neighborhood?"

Bobby chortled, "Yeah, I can see it now, Sheriff Sonny of wild west Belmont."

Jimmy burst out laughing, and Bobby started also. The laughter was contagious, because a moment later though I had not yet checked Sonny's reaction, I could no longer contain my own.

"Yeah," Jimmy added between chuckles, "We can get you a badge too!"

We had reached the front door of the bar, and Sonny finally turned to face us all. At this point, Jimmy and Bobby were still laughing away, and me? I had lost control to the point I felt actual tears leaving my eyes. I could not remove this vision I had in my head of a 'Sheriff Sonny' sauntering down the block, a six gun on each hip, complete with cowboy hat, boots and badge while wearing one of his suits…oh God.. I reached out blindly for the wall to stop myself from falling over.

Sonny had been looking us over with an incredulous expression on his face, which only slightly faded as he flashed us a smile, "You know where you can shove that badge, right Jimmy?"

The response was more laughter. It took Jimmy a few seconds to catch his breath before he could reply, "Same place as usual?"

Sonny's smile increased in size and he shrugged one shoulder, "Yeah, sure, why the fuck not?" and he himself started to chuckle.

"But Sonny," Bobby interrupted and waiting a second or two to catch his breath before continuing, "It ain't gonna fit"

Now up until that moment, I had thought I was following along, finally understanding one of their jokes, but that last line left me puzzled. Didn't matter though, they obviously understood it. Jimmy and Bobby were practically hysterical, and Sonny himself was actually laughing. Ok, so maybe this morning hadn't turned out so bad after all.

Continuing to do so, Sonny took a moment to look at each of us before shaking his head slowly and I heard him very softly under his breath, "You fucking guys.." and I just knew that included me also.

And why wouldn't I be one of 'you fucking guys'? I was tough, I proved that to them. I also proved I was willing to stand with them to shut up a couple of jerkoffs, even knowing one of the jerkoffs had a gun. I even got to actually laugh with them, this time a real laugh instead of just a confused smile, as this time I understood one of their jokes (well, up until that last part anyway). I felt more like part of their group than ever before, especially when Sonny turned towards me and in a casual voice, no different from he would say to any of his group, "Hey C, so tonight? You in?"

I was still laughing, and as I looked up into his smiling face I knew right then that I just couldn't say 'no' to him. Sonny was my friend, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was to disappoint him. Besides, it was a good opportunity to make some money and further my 'second' education as he liked to call it. I also remember at that moment, probably for the thousandth time, I silently questioned my father's words about love and fear. It couldn't be true. Everybody loved Sonny, they didn't fear him. I had seen that again today. Even with 'Frankie' and his partner, they may have been a little afraid at one point, as I was earlier when Sonny pushed me down against Jimmy's car, but like me, they got over it quick enough and in the end they had no hard feelings at all.  
Everyone treated Sonny like he was special, they couldn't do enough for him, and again just like me, they never wanted to disappoint him. I certainly didn't fear him, of this I was sure. And once you really got to know him, it was almost impossible not to love him. My father was a smart man, but on this he had to be wrong. "Yeah Sonny, I'll be here."

"Great, glad to hear it" and from his tone I could tell he really was. He patted my shoulder, adding "We got some business to take care of, so I'll see you later tonight, ok?"

"Okay, bye Sonny" I backed off a few steps as he reached for the door. I exchanged a quick 'Bye' with Jimmy and Bobby, and from the sidewalk watched the three men disappear into the darkness of the bar. I couldn't see them so well, but I heard Sonny's voice, fading, but still clear enough to make out "Ain't gonna fit? Well, I don't give a fuck.." and a new explosion of their laughter managed to escape before the door swung shut, muffling it out.

I went back home, now going up the steps two at a time. I hoped one day to be able to easily clear three. I could have gone out looking for Mario and Slick, but if I spent the entire day hanging out with them, who would I use for an excuse for going out later?

As I hiked my way upwards towards our apartment, I planned my responses to questions my father would most likely ask when I arrived. If he asked where I've been, I'd just tell him I took a walk around the block. This was the truth. If he asked if I had been at the bar, I would look him straight on and tell him no. This was the truth as well, I never once entered the bar today. (Not yet, anyway).

I figured I had it covered, I could answer almost any question guilt free. There was no concern at all that he might ask me if I had been hanging around Sonny. In those days, Dad's dislike of Sonny seemed to have reached a point where he barely ever mentioned him by name, and never specifically asked me about him.

But it turned out all that planning was unnecessary. When I reached our floor and opened the door to our apartment, it was very quiet. The door to my parents' bedroom was open and I could see my mother's figure lying on the bed, under the white comforter that had been made by my grandmother.  
"Calogero, is that you?" she called out in a sleepy voice.

"Yeah mom"

"Okay, your father ran out to the pharmacy and then to pick up some groceries. He wants you to wait here until he gets back."

"Okay mom" This was fine with me.

Satisfied, she shifted into a more comfortable position and relaxed herself back to sleep. Now, what to do until my father came home?

I wandered into the bathroom and very slowly, quietly, shut the door as not to disturb her. I then turned and faced the back of the door, where hung the only full length mirror we owned. I Immediately went into a military style 'at ease' pose and cocked my head slightly to the right. My lips parted just a little to form a small smile. I turned sideways to check from a different angle. It looked good.

I returned to face forward, and released my grip on my right hand. I brought it up and started to do the three finger jab at my reflection, deliberately trying to get as close as I could without making contact with the glass. From deep in my chest, in a barely audible whisper came out "You fucking jerkoff" punctuating each word with a jab. I liked it, but it still needed work. My shoulders slumped, my body relaxed to its own natural posture, and a small sigh escaped my lips. It would probably take me years to get this perfect, that is if I ever could. After all, nobody was cooler than Sonny.

I remained in the bathroom until my father came home, practicing all the new moves I had learned that morning. When I heard the door to our apartment open, and the sounds of bags being placed on the table, he called out in an unusually low volume as to not disturb my mother, "Calogero?"

"I'll be right there Dad"

As I was reaching for the bathroom door handle, I suddenly stopped. My right hand went into the familiar three finger gesture, and pointed at the back of the bathroom door. "We got some business to take care of, so I'll see you later tonight, ok?" I breathed.

My reflection in the mirror pointed back and smiled. Satisfied with this, I opened the door and went out to greet my father.

 _My first attempt at writing. I'm trying to improve, comments and constructive criticism are very welcome and Thanks!_


End file.
